Dolce Vita

The company lost the letter 'A' this morning.

When the receptionist stood in front of the boss at dawn, horrified, he reported that he hadn't seen anyone walk out with a letter A, but he hadn't seen the letter walk out on its own either. The Chief, unhooking his chunky sleeve from his huge waistcoat, threatened the receptionist that if anything else lost during the day, he will be fired.

Manci, the gem of secretaries, was in the middle of brewing coffee and eagerly sharpening a pencil when the Chief entered the room and slammed the door behind him. Manci brought with trembling hands the cups with the sugar in it not shaken, stirred.

Soon Zoli, the personal secretary, the one and only substantive administrator also staggered in. He sat down sleepily at his desk, but had no time to rest from the morning's journey, for the boss was already ringing the phone like a baby rings a bell when it's hungry.

Zoli went to the Chief and took his usual place on the edge of the carpet, because he could see the sad mass of clouds obscuring his face of superiority.

The briefing began, as usual, with a descent. The Chief flapped like a dying swan on the lake because he had missed a comma in his incredibly important thank-you note, and a semicolon had been moved elsewhere, furthermore the full stop had disappeared from the end of the sentence.

Zoli, by the way, tried to concentrate on the merits of the matter, but the Chief was screaming hysterically, like a jackal in a cartoon, that he was surrounded by idiots, morons and incompetents. Then, suddenly, he was speechless, his eyes bugged out and his whole body stiffened as he continued to read the letter, and then he screamed so loudly that the children in the neighboring apartment blocks stopped growing for a moment. It was then that he noticed that the letter A was missing from this document.

There are one less letter in the alphabet, and if we carry on like this, the company will go bankrupt, because tomorrow someone will steal the letter B and then production will be paralyzed, the world will stop turning, the birds will fall from the trees and the pyramid of our civilization will collapse into the hell. If we're not careful, something could happen to the letter C and time will fall into Chaos, so we won't even be able to name the alphabet, because we lost the A-B-C.

Zoli just blinked and thought that he should change his job, because he couldn't stand the terrible tension. Of course, the Chief immediately ordered an internal investigation. He asked Zoli for a report to cover himself to the owner, because one thing was certain: the mysterious disappearance of the letter A could not be the Chief's fault.

The investigation naturally involved the relevant authorities, the trade union, the women's association, the bodies of dissidents and dissenters, in order to demonstrate the broadest possible social consensus within the company to establish the whereabouts of the letter A. In fact, through his good old lawyer friend, he has also taken the necessary steps towards the authorities, and a nationwide manhunt has been launched to find the unknown perpetrator and the letter A.

However, the company's operations continued to be hampered. Everyone was looking for letter A and was too busy to deal with the cases. Not to mention the fact that, as someone was fired every Monday to reduce the financial burden, those who remained were essentially clinging to their chairs, lest someone walk through the door and take their place.

Occasionally, furniture removers would flit up and down the corridor, and those whose rooms were empty would have their furniture taken away to be replaced. By the time the unfortunate person came back from the toilet, a new member of staff was sitting in his room on minimum wage, eagerly searching for the letter A.

The investigation was diligently pursued for weeks, but unfortunately it did not lead to any results, so the personal consequences had to be drawn, and the receptionist was sacked with immediate effect for not keeping his eyes open when the letter A walked out of the company.

The Chief ordered a further rationalization of the company's operations, so anyone who dared not move from their chair while suffering from a terrible urge to urinate was put on a truck with a chair and replaced by young fellows with better prostates. They outsourced, contracted out, digitized jobs and did everything they could to ensure that there was no living person left in the company capable of stealing letter A.

Of course, Zoli, the Chief's favorite, who could be kicked in the butt three times every morning on the edge of the carpet in a morning gymnastics session and he even thanked it humbly. After all, whose head would the big man hit, whose mind would he be allowed to ruminate on, and whose would be horrified if another comma was left out of an important text?

However, the letter A did not turn up, despite all his efforts. The local paper had already written about it. As it was political pickle season, the media picked up the story and called for blood in the name of public opinion.

The case has grown beyond the company. Unfortunately, the big noise drove away partners, good agreements and muddied the already murky waters. As a real businessman prefers quiet business, secret position and not publicity, a sacrifice was needed. However, the Chief sacrificed his staff in vain, rationalized rationalization in vain, but all this was too little to restore the problem.

The great man had to go. Quietly and quickly. Having fired everyone, he had not met anybody in the corridors of the company. The funeral of his existence therefore took place in a small family circle, with Manci, that is Ms. Secretary and Zoli, the sidekick accompanying him to the street.

The Chief complained about how people didn't appreciate him, even though he only wanted what was best for them. He had one joy left, he said, in a brooding mood, that Manci and Zoli had stood by him all the way. He was thankful that at least they two were attending his farewell party, because others did not even deserve to live.

Zoli handed over their small gift, which was beautifully wrapped and tied with a silk cord. Tears glistened in the Chief's eyes as he opened the package.

Inside the gift box, wrapped in cellophane, lay the lost letter A.